Powerless
by phantasytech42
Summary: Modern day mages live in constant fear of being discovered and killed. When his power is revealed, Francis, mage and single father, moves to the city to try and get lost in the crowd... but what happens when he meets Arthur Kirkland, a pro-mage rebel in this new city?


Francis knew. He knew what would happen if he were to use magic in public. Why should he expect any different? Ever since the First Magical War, though long ago, magic-users have been treated like a disease; something to be eradicated, wiped from the face of the earth... Of course, because of this, mages keep their gifts a secret, never to be used outside the home, and even then, cautiously. Revealing oneself was a death sentence. A slow, painful death sentence.

But today... he couldn't help it. It was a little girl, learning to ride her bike along the streets of the stereotypical suburban neighborhood. She had been doing well, save for the occasional swerve. Francis had been walking along the other side of the road, returning home after a long day at work, watching the scene with a small smile.

That is, until a car veered onto the road at an alarming speed, the arrival sudden and unexpected- and the driver, presumably drunk, showed no signs of slowing. There was nowhere near enough time for the girl to get out of the way. At least not without some sort of assistance.

Almost instinctively, Francis held out his arm, focusing his power on the girl, managing to muster enough energy to propel her off the bike and out of the vehicle's path. What else could he do? He couldn't just stand by and watch the inevitably gruesome scene play out. She'd be a little scraped up, sure, but that's better than the alternative.

The car screeched past in an irregular swerve, off to terrorize another street, but that was hardly Francis' concern at the moment. The blood-chilling look the girl's mother gave him said everything. He wasn't welcome here anymore. He was a terror, a filth that must be purged. He had to start a new life. Again. Granted they didn't follow him, of course. He'd heard of those overzealous magiphobes- once they find a mage, they go to great lengths to eradicate them. Burning houses, lynching, following them wherever they may flee... along with countless other unspeakable horrors... They just emhad /emto make sure the world was "safe" from the devil-power that was magic. Francis just hoped that wasn't the case this time. Three times, he had been lucky. He only had to move and he could start all over again. The only thing he disliked about starting over was uprooting his sons, Alfred and Matthew... and without giving them much of a reason, either. He didn't want them to know. He couldn't bear his own sons seeing him as a devil.

The mix of fear and lethal intent in the mother's eyes was apparent- Francis had tainted her daughter with the touch of the devil.

"Mage!" she shrieked, "Devil!" She crouched by her weeping child, cradling her to her bosom, as though her arms could protect against the power Francis unwillingly harnessed. "Your kind isn't welcome here! I thought you were a decent man... I'll see you dead before dawn tomorrow..!"

Francis' heart raced hearing the threats, and he turned to run, the woman's words following him down the road, echoing in his head. There was no doubt in his mind she would do everything in her power to keep her promise.

The thought only pushed him to race home even faster.

"Die, you piece of shit mage!"

Francis' blood drained from his face as he entered, shutting the door behind him as quickly as possible. "..Alfred?" he whispered, stepping into the living room to find the source of the voice, only to be stopped by his own relief as he saw his eldest son was only shouting at the TV.  
>"Alfred, mon cher, I told you not to play that," he said, trying to evoke some sort of authoritative tone, rather than display his true mindset- scared out of his mind. His voice wavered just a bit, watching the onscreen gore and thinking back to his neighbor's death threats, back to previous incidents, the narrow escapes, the betrayal, the fear. They would have to leave tonight, if not sooner.<p>

Alfred clicked his tongue, pausing the game and looking back to Francis, looking thoroughly irritated. "C'mon, it's not even that bad!" he rolled his eyes. "I'm just killing mages..." he mumbled.

"I don't want killing of any type, Alfred. Where did you get it?"

"...My friend lent it to me..."

"Well you are going to give it back, oui? Right now."

"What? Now?"

"Oui. Now, Alfred. I mean it."

Alfred sighed heavily. "Can I at least-"

"Non! I don't want that game in my house any longer than it has to be."

"_Fine_," he hissed, taking the disk out and popping it back in its case.

"Et be back soon, we need to have a family discussion."

"We aren't moving again, are we?" Alfred huffed, pulling on his red, white, and blue hoodie as he moved towards the door. "I just made new friends..."

"Just hurry back, Alfred. Before dinner."

Alfred didn't say anything more other than a tongue click and an exasperated groan, trudging out the door.

Between school and the media, they were already being saturated with anti-mage sentiment. Alfred played video games demonizing mages, depicting them as monsters, hideous demons that spit fire and kidnapped small children to eat for dinner. Matthew read books of a similar taste, some even for school. It was disgusting. So young to have so much hate forced on them...

"Matthew?" Francis called, switching off the TV.

"Oui, papa?"

Francis smiled, glad at least a small bit of his French heritage had stuck. "How was school?"

"It was good!" Matthew replied bounding down the stairs with surprising grace. He was still young enough to get excited when his parent returned home. "I made a new friend, today. We went to the park aft-" he caught himself, not saying anymore. He knew Francis didn't like it when he went off anywhere besides school.

"Matthew, I always tell you to come straight home after school."

"I know, but... being at home all the time is boring," he liked being at home for the most part, where he could curl up in bed and watch TV or read or whatever other sort of solitary activity he could find to his heart's content... but that doesn't mean he wanted to be locked inside all the time. "... And you let Alfred go wherever he wants!"

A pause. "Alfred is older." Francis ran a hand through his hair as his thoughts returned to Alfred, desperately hoping he'd be back before dinner. His plan was to leave right after.

"I'm old enough!" Matthew pout, crossing his arms.

"Not quite, mon cher," he said softly, brushing back his son's hair. Really, he didn't want Matthew to do something... unexpected while in public. Francis had noticed the first signs of magic in Matthew- nightmares nearly every night, flickering lights when upset, things moving on their own... He was only trying to protect him. And as far as Matthew knew, all these signs were in no way connected to him, and if at all, a mere coincidence. Not once did the thought of having magic in his blood cross his mind.

Matthew gave a small huff and turned away from Francis, thoroughly put off.

"...Do you want to help Papa make dinner?"

Matthew glanced back to Francis with caution, refusing to look pleased with the request- as much as he was.

"We can have breakfast-for-dinner," he persuaded with a tiny smirk, knowing Matthew could never refuse that.

"... With pancakes?"

"Why, of course! It is not breakfast-dinner without pancakes."

(( As always, reviews are much appreciated! ))


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